


till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drinking, Drunkenness, F/M, Fic No. 850 in the tag, Fluff, Impromptu Fluffathon, Season/Series 03, Thanksgiving, fluffathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5328485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When their mission goes south, Daisy and Phil hide out in an abandoned hotel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Impromptu Fluffathon (prompts at the end). Not sure if this still counts as fluff, though.  
> And believe it or not, I think this is actually Fic No. 850 in the ship. :)  
> I apologize for all potential mistakes. This was written, like, in an hour.

The mission's gone south and there's no extraction in sight, so they are supposed to lie low for a few days until things cool down. Unfortunately, it's also Thanksgiving and Daisy's been complaining a little about not being to eat all the wonderful things Jemma normally prepares for such events. But they're stuck in a shady little hotel after all (they've let themselves in since it's closed, facing foreclosure). It's not too dusty and basically, everything's there: canned kitchen supplies, clean sheets, warm water (apparently, the electricity bills have been paid). It's not lovely, but it will do until Thursday.

Coulson's thrown together a few things and created them a modest, but still very tasty meal. It's not the Thanksgiving they are used to, but nice enough, and there are even candles, so they're eating very peacefully in the abandoned, velvety dining room. After a few minutes of what Daisy sometimes calls 'recalibration' after an awful mission, the ice breaks and they find themselves chatting away at the table. 

When, after finishing, Daisy returns from doing the dishes, Coulson emerges from behind the bar with five or six bottles of champagne. The expression on his face is almost cheeky. „Found these, I think it's all there is. Do you think we should?“  
She grins. „We should. Might as well celebrate.“  
„Yes, I'd say we earned this with what's been going down out there.“  
„Well, Director, do the honours, please.“

The first crown cap flies with a pop, and they almost don't get to laugh about it, because the champagne keeps flowing out of the bottle and Daisy's running to get glasses, and they end up clinking pretty large cocktail classes together.  
„Not bad,“ Coulson nods appreciatively.  
„Well, I'm not a _connoisseur_ like you, but yeah, this is nothing like the cheap stuff.“

It's actually the stuff that goes straight to one's head, and after more cheerful chatter at the table, Coulson approaches the dirty little brown pianino in the corner, and halfway through the third bottle, they are singing song after song, Daisy propping herself up on the piano's lid. While Coulson's still playing, she goes to open the fourth or fifth bottle, just a little insecure on her feet, shooting the cap right into one of the crystal chandeliers. Instead of broken glass, though, all that comes down is some sun-bleached confetti, probably from last year's New Year event, and it makes her giggle.

After another glass each, Daisy sits to join him at the piano. Granted, she's never had lessons, but never underestimate a girl who's set her mind to something. When the bottle's finished, she's playing the high-register part perfectly, both hands following the same melody, and she thinks, _wow_ , because she's pretty sure she's never seen Coulson beam at her like this before. It's weird how tonight, everything seems so easy, and how everything is the way it should be for once. And Phil's looking at her like she's the best thing in the world, and even though it could be the ridiculous amount of champagne, she's pretty sure it's his smile that's making her knees shake a little. 

He's lost the tie somewhere around the fourth bottle (the suit jacket's been left in the kitchen during the cooking procedure), and the champagne's been making her feel a little too warm, she can actually feel the flush in her cheeks. When Coulson opens the last bottle between them, the crown cap hardly pops, there's just this tiny sizzling, and their shoulders accidentally touch a few times during the process. He offers her the bottle, and since they are sitting this close anyway, she just drinks straight from it, downing pretty much half of what's in it, actually. Coulson almost looks impressed when she invites him to drink up the rest. He figures they really deserve, well, also really needed this night off, one evening without responsibilities.

He knows he's drunk, and catches himself kind of staring at her, and at the rim of her top. Suddenly, their faces are too close, and the look in her eyes almost makes him forget that this is actually still a mission, that this is still supposed to be a professional work environment.   
„Let's dance,“ he blurts out, and Daisy looks a tiny bit disappointed, the champagne is translating her every thought on her face, she knows that.  
„Course,“ she says, following his example and standing up, her slightly wobbly legs assuring her that she's just as drunk as he is. „But there's no music. I mean, we can't play n'dance at the same time.“

He smiles, sort of hugging her tight for the dance, slowly humming some holiday tune into her ear. It vibrates, and she has to remind herself that technically, this is still work, this mission isn't over yet. He's humming really close to her neck, though, and while she's trying to bury her face in his chest, he's slowly spinning her around in circles until she realizes she's full-blown making out with him. It's definitely not how she imagined this undercover operation to go down, but _this_ clearly marks the end of their work mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:  
> [DANCING WITHOUT MUSIC]  
> [OUR FLAWLESS ORPHANS CELEBRATING THE HOLIDAYS WHILE THEY ARE ON THE ROAD/ON A MISSION/UNDERCOVER]
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! :)


End file.
